Fallen
by ChamiriHatake101
Summary: These stories are going to be based off of the songs by Evanescence on the album Fallen. A warning: most of them will be angst.
1. Hello: France

For the fourth time, the playground school bell rang again. Most of the kids had dispersed from the scene that lays on the playground before them; others just stood and watched the adult cry over a fallen body on the ground. The teachers come over, some grabbing the children to come inside, some trying to get the broken man away from the small body. He shouts at them, whips his fists around, telling them to leave him and his child alone. They back off slowly and peer into the sky where they see the dark rain clouds coming towards them. How fitting for the weather to turn rainy when a small child lay dead on the playground where her father cries.

The teachers finally subside and go into the school, calling the parents of the children who are still alive and freaked out about losing a friend. They try to calm down the kids as best as they could, but couldn't as they too were about to break. How could someone kill an angel who didn't do a bad thing to the world? Why did she have to die? Why was she the one to get hit with the bullet when there were plenty others who also could've been hit? Her father was thinking the same things as his shaking figure wails.

The Frenchman who looks at his dead daughter, cries his eyes out and caresses her cold cheek. Looking down at her chest, he sees the wound where the bullet went in, killing his dear daughter. "Today was suppose to be a good day, _mon cher_, not a sad day." He says between his gasping breathe. Francis Bonnefoy, the Frenchman kneeling besides his only daughter, looks back earlier today, trying to see if anything was off during the day, but he couldn't think of anything. He cradles the girls head and cries some more. "Angie, _mon petit ange_, wake up, please." Angie, his daughter from Seychelles, lays unmoving in his arms, dead to the world. He won't believe anything about this sudden death; not one thing will convince him about this event happening.

"_Has no one told you she's not breathing?_" His head jerks up and his red eyes scan for the voice he heard. No one was there, but he did hear a voice. "_Bonjour,_" said the voice again. He looks around again, still unable to find anyone, "_I'm your mind, giving you someone to talk to. Bonjour._"

Francis laughs bitterly at the voice. "I don't need someone to talk to. I need her to be alive!" His shout wavers as his voice falls back to wailing and crying. He waits for his mind to speak, but it stays mute, listening to the poor pitiful man cry. His body shakes again as drops of rain falls onto his body, making slight chills run up and down his body. The Frenchman blinks and stares at the sky, letting the rain wash his face from his salted tears. On his face is a frown that shows his sadness, and he suddenly thinks: _If I smile and don't believe, soon I know I will wake from this dream._

He smiles. As he makes the little movement, the day turns from depressed and rainy to happy and sunny. Francis looks down as his arm is pulled and smiles at the small children around him. Yes, he's back to his beautiful life of being an elementary school teacher, and he's living with pure joy. His young daughter, Angie, comes up to him and hugs him with the smile that he loves to see. They laugh and go out side to play more on the playground. He looks at his surroundings, watching the precious children play with there friends, and smiles. _This is the life I know and love. _He may not be married, but Angie is the world to him; if she's happy, he's happy. Nothing else in the world matters to him, and no one has commented on his thinking; no one needs to when they see how much their relationship is. A true father and daughter relationship; a great family. _This is my life._

_ "Is it?"_ The voice reverberated inside his head once again, making him blink. _"Is this the life you live now?"_

He scowls at the voice and answers with a simple "Oui". The voice chuckled. Francis soon realized this wasn't his life, but he didn't want it to be fixed to where he was back to his depressive, pitiful life again. "Don't try to fix me," he says to the voice, begging for his enjoyment and happiness in life, "I'm not broken. I swear it."

If the voice had a head, it'd be shaking. "_Bonjour_," it goes, "_I'm the lie living for you, so you can hide."_ His peaceful world with his daughter still living stayed for a short time and soon disappeared. He was back to feeling the rain pour on his face. _"Don't cry."_

He instantly thought the voice was insane and trying to ruin his life. He looked around, then down, seeing his dead angel in his lap once again. His eyes began to water once again as he suddenly knows that he's not sleeping, and this isn't a dream; it's all real. He lost his daughter, the only precious thing in the world to him. With no reason at all, his daughter was dead, and his heart wrenched in pain every time he thought about it. "Pourquoi?" He leaned down for his fore head to touch his daughter's. "Pourquoi deviez-vous mourir?" He spoke in his language, and cried harder when his angel never answered. Her cold dead body just laid there in his arms with a small smile on her face.

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**Note:** It's short and...I'm not going to say sweet because it's sad...really sad.

This story is based on the song called "Hello" by Evanescence. It's a good song and I got idea just today. It's a short story, but i...sort of like it. It gives me a break from all the romances that i still need to write -_- too busy.

**Translations:**

Mon ange - my angel

mon cher - my dear

Bonjour - hello (i think everyone knows that but still...)

Pourquoi - why

Pourquoi deviez-vous mourir - why did you have to die

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia or the songs by Evanescence, i just own the story.

Thanks for reading! R&R.


	2. Tourniquet: England

Britain didn't think he could be reliving his past memory of the Revolution. The last he remembered was being in a meeting where America was aggravating him and now he's on the battle field against his beloved ex-brother. The Brit looks down at his clothing and scowls as he notices the red outfit that he had on. The uniform he wore felt foreign to him; it held too many sad memories, and he wasn't comfortable as he wore it. He could've sworn that he burnt it right after he got home, so he wouldn't have another fragment of the memory he hates the most. As if trying to rip it off of him, he starts to tug at it, but it was like the cloth was glued to him.

"England!" The county's head glanced at the man who called him and paled as he saw who. America was standing in front of him, fully clothed in his revolution attire, and equipped with his rifle. It wasn't until the British country looked at his hand until he saw the same weapon in his hand. "This ends here!" England looked up at his brother, scowling him, but soon relaxed.

America held the gun up, aiming at his heart, and waiting for the other to move; the move that Britain made, though, surprised him. The Brit tossed his gun to the side and opened his arms outward. He gave the other a fierce stare, telling the other to do it. _This is only a dream, it has to be, so I won't feel any type of hurt._ He scowled at America. "Hurry up and shot me idiot!" They were both shocked at how he wanted to die so easily. America hesitated, and Britain took a step forward. This movement made the American shot and hit his target. The impact of the bullet hit England and he smiled while staring at his new wound. "About bloody time." He fell into the mud and stared into the sky.

America stared at his brother, pitying him, wanting to help him, but turned to the others. "Let's go! We have families to return to!" His men cheered, but he glanced at the body laying on the ground. _What got into him? Why did he give up so easily?_ Turning his attention back to his soldiers, he marched off back home with a grin on his face.

Britain couldn't help but smile as he heard the cheers and the soldiers marching off home. He coughed and felt some blood come out of his mouth. His arm brushed the crimson blood away, but he stared at it. _This blood,_ he clenched his fist as he felt for his wound near the heart, _it's the reminder of __regret,_ his eyes watered but the rain disguised the salty tears,_ and now of betrayal._ He held his wound tightly, attempting to stop the blood flow, but just made himself scream as the pain was unbearable. _God,_ he opened his eyes to stare into the darkened sky again, _I know that we countries die and come back but could you please return me back to my salvation? My God, you are my tourniquet, please save me from this awful memory._ He coughed up some blood again, but never stopped staring at the sky.

His pain kept growing as he waited. The blood kept seeping out onto the mud and the rain just washed the red liquid away. The Englishman was dying slowly, but he couldn't stand it. He felt like he was forgotten; God wasn't helping him in anyway and it was angering him, but he was trying not to cloud his thoughts about the man on the other side. He just felt like he was being denied. He either needed to go to the light where everyone was waiting for him or he was forgotten and left there to slowly die from the pain and memory. He maybe having his doubts, but he never stopped praying for his salvation.

That's all he could think about; salvation. He never use to think about being rescued, but this time, he just wanted it done and over with. His wound was hurting him; his soul was crying for deliverance; he wanted for this pain to go away. "I want to die." He blinked as he said this, but knew it was true. He wanted to die; nothing we important to him in his life anymore. The only thing that seemed to keep him going was war, and he hated it.

"Just kill me. I'm not needed." Tears were falling as he thought about what he put his entire life for and how he lost it. It was this exact memory that proved that he lost everything. He put his all for America and what happens? He loses the boy. He grew up; he became strong; he was able to look after himself. England wasn't needed anymore. He's just there, with no role in life anymore. "Please," he whines to the onlooking God up in the sky, "just end my life now. Have me reborn as someone who doesn't remember America, who pities himself, who hates himself, who wants to die..." he trailed off as he noticed his vision going blurry. He smiled. "Thank you. You didn't forget me; you're giving me salvation." The Brits eyes finally close as his body shuts down; all that's left of him is his body with that smiling face. One would believe that he finally found peace, and one would say he did, but it didn't cause others peace. When America heard that his ex-brother died, he lost it.

**Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo**

England shot out of the bed, his head banging against something hard as he woke up. "Bloody hell." He rubbed his head, and looked up at who or what had hurt his head. It was America. "Damn America, you have a hard head."

The other chuckled as he rubbed his own head. "I could say the same to you Iggy."

The British country just stared at the other and suddenly remembered his dream. _It was a dream, thank God._ He closed his eyes, but then opened them as he chuckle. "That's bloody ironic."

"What is?" He gazed at the American again. "Are you okay, Iggy? You passed out on us while I was saying something. Are you getting enough sleep?"

The Brit giggled at the other's worry, and shook his head as he laid back on the bed. "I'm fine, git, just had a nightmare is all." He stared at the ceiling, ignoring America as he pestered him, and focused onto one thought. _Thank you,_ he said with a smile, _for giving me salvation._

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**Note:** At first i was going to have it end with America losing it, but then just added the ending where it was all just a dream. I was really sad while typing this (i hate killing England) but i had the idea and typed it up anyway.

This one is from the song "Tourniquet". I love this song and now almost all the words but once it's a story about a nation that i absolutely love...then i get sad.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the song or Hetalia, just the idea.

Thanks for reading! R&R.


	3. Imaginary: Russia

A field of flowers lay out before the creator and caretaker of the green and yellow world. This world is made and loved by a Russian by the name of Ivan Braginski, the representative for the country Russia. He adores this world since it contains his favorite flower, the sunflower; the entire world is consumed and laid out with the specific plant because that specific flower reminds him of the sun that it's named after. He tries to visit this place he's created more often then visiting or going to meetings.

Like any other day, he's lingering in the doorway, listening to the screaming alarm clock in his room sound the start of a day with meaning, but the days to him hold no meaning. Russia observes the annoying mechanism and sighs as he finally decides to shut it off. In the place of the shouts the contraption made, he hears his name being called. The way it's called makes his skin crawl, but he doesn't show the discomposure on his face; he faces the monsters that are calling his name back to the darkness of his room, and leaves for his living room. He sits in his one chair he chooses over all the others and closes his eyes to enter his world again.

In his world, he feels safer and happier than ever, but most of all he feels free. "Let me stay, da?" He stares into the purple sky that flies over him and gives a smile that holds the rare emotion of happiness. The wind blows by him, whipping his favorite scarf around and he listen to the whispers that the wind says. He turns as he sees some clouds, that he calls candy clouds, coming to water his field of flowers, and watches as the rain drops pour and tell there own stories as they pass his ears. All this happens in his field of sunflowers. The Russian overlooks his sunny field and smiles as he falls against the ground, closing his eyes and listening to the hum of rain against petal and dirt. He hates closing his eyes when in his own world, but does so to continue the feeling of it being real, not just a figment of his imagination.

Once he was about to opening his eyes and look over his field again, he finds himself back at his house, staring at the disgusting ceiling hovering above him. He scowls and leans forward, getting up out of his chair to adventure out side. He needed to go to another dreadful meeting that was held in his capital; though he wanted to skip the meeting and lay in his world once more, he left for the hotel the meeting would reside in.

As he arrived, he instantly saw a familiar woman with long platinum blonde to silver hair, like his, and secretly moaned in annoyance. The girl, named Belarus, or Natalia, latched to him and the single touch and recognition of her presence sent chills down his spine. Throughout the meeting she stayed glued to his side, to his displeasure and he couldn't focus on anything. He was drifting back into his dream world even though his eyes were wide open. After a brief look around of the room, all he could see were his flowers. A smile slowly appeared onto his face, and he stayed, still on the ground, just to look at the sky that was the same hue as his eye color. He couldn't think of any other place he'd go to if he wanted entertainment or protection. Yes, he felt protected while in his sunflower world, but that's only because he puts full trust and love into his world and flowers. Soon, though, something shook him and he appeared back into reality.

He scowled which made the country that woke him back off. Ivan glared at the other country only to see that his hated rival was there. America stood there holding his hand back to make sure that the Russian wouldn't chop it off if he could and smiled. "Dude you are so out of touch with the world right now."

Russia glowered even more. "Don't say that I'm out of touch. This reality that is yours is a rampant chaos that I would gladly stay out of." America gave his own glare as Russia smiled. "Leave me alone, da? I'm too pissed to deal with you right now." The Russian stood and made his way to leave, but felt something anchor him. He rolled his eyes and thought: _I know what lies beyond my sleeping refuge, the nightmare I built my own world to escape from._ He gives a fake smile to his stubborn sister. _I'd rather be in my refuge than deal with this horrible world with the people and countries I hate. _He doesn't like to be mean to his sister, but today he couldn't take the pressure of his youngest sister's touch anymore; he shook her off his arm and left the meeting as the others stared at his back. _This entire world is my nightmare, that's why I made my own world._ His smile turned into a frown as he walked towards his vehicle, and headed home.

It was night when he got back home and he couldn't believe the sudden time change; he could've sworn it was only noon when he left, but making all those forgotten detours made him lose track of any time he had on hand. He parked his automobile and hurriedly walked into his house towards his room. Ivan may hate his dark, uncomfortable room, but it's the only room that allows him to be in his world for longer than a few minutes. How he discovered that? He couldn't remember.

Hours passed and he laid in his bed with the silent sounds surrounding him. He pinched his eyes out of desperation to go to sleep, but he couldn't. Russia groaned as he thought of a way to make the room less quiet. Sitting up, he opened his mouth and started to scream; he never need to scream before and it was grating his throat; it was hurting more than anything. He did this for more hours in fear of silent nights. The Russian looked around his room, hoping for his deep sleep dreaming and the goodness of imaginary light; he continued to scream and look until he finally entered into his field of sunflowers.

He stopped the screaming and smiled as he ran through his tall fields of little suns. His smile kept getting bigger, so much that it hurt his face; he never smiled like this before, and wanted to have this feeling of happiness to stay with him. "I could lie inside myself for hours and never go back to that awful, disgusting world again, da?" He made a rare chuckle and nodded. "Da." He answered himself and fell down a hill, rolling all the way down a patch of grass, greatful that there weren't any flowers in his way as he rolled. As he stopped at the end of the hill, he laid on his back and stared at the purple sky flying over him. Ivan's smile lessened and he started to get tired. "I wish to stay here." His eyes were closing and he yawned. "Da, stay here forever." When his eyes closed, he didn't wake up back in his room; he fell into a deep sleep that he knew was real. The Russian's dream came true; he never had to go back to the nightmare he lived; he could stay in his own sunny world forever. With that settling in his mind, he smiled in his sleep.

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**Note:** Yeah, at first i was going to do another Britain story with this song, but then Maiya123 made a request for me to do Russia with this song. I was confused at first until i listened to the song again, and i went "Oh yeah this does fit him." :) Thanks for the idea/request Maiya123!

Thanks for reading! R&R.

**Note 2:** If you know the album Fallen by Evanescence and want to request a specific country for a song, please do so, i'll be glad to think up a story for the character. Also, even if the song has a story to it, you can still put the character and song together and ask for me to do a story. I can always make more than one story for a song. Send requests! ;)


	4. My Immortal: Russia and Lithuania

_I'm so tired of being here,_ Lithuania thought as he turns around another corner in Russia's house. He sighed and kept going, heading for his room to get at least some sleep in the night. _I know I could leave but I'm too terrified to leave._ He shivers as he thinks of the reasons he stays. _Russia would punish me if I left without permission. _He sighs again and shakes his head. _I hate being suppressed by all my childish fears. It's so stupid to be afraid of him, yet...he's too scary not to be afraid of._

He comes up to his door and opens it only to his the man he's been thinking about sitting, waiting, for him on his bed. Toris stared at the platinum blonde's freaky eyes and instantly started to shiver. He can't help it when he shivers in Russia's presence; the Russian had frightened all of the Baltics to the point they shiver almost all the time, and they can't stop stuttering. He would sigh again, but only cringed as Russia smiled at him. "You're ready, da?" Lithuania knew this was going to happen so Russia didn't need to ask, but the Russian loves to see the smaller country's body tremble from fear and the fear consume his face. The brunette looked at the floor, clenched the door knob, and nodded. Russia's smile increased. "Great. Now come over here."

"Y-yes s-s-sir." The Lithuanian's hand trembled as he closed the door and walked over to Ivan, ready to take whatever was coming.

Moments later, Russia climbed out of bed, pleased with what just happened. Lithuania stayed curled up in the bed and regretted what just happened. It's been happening for decades, almost centuries, now, but he still can't get use to it and he hates it. Russia patted the little figure's head and bent down to whisper into the other's ear. "I have to leave." Lithuania jumped and the Russian chuckled. "But I'll be back, da?"

_I wish that you would just leave._ Lithuania looked at the back of the other as he left the room, lightly closing the door. He tried to smile, but the frown that was on his face wouldn't move into anything else. He pulled his legs closer to his body, holding them and resting his head against his knees. His eyes stung as the usual tears started to prick at his ducts, wanting to pour out. His body shuddered as he gave in and cried. Even though that the Russian wasn't in the room, he could still feel his presence. _His presence is still here,_ Lithuania closed on himself some more, _it just won't leave me alone, will it?_

His body still shivered and it caused the new pain to hurt worse than before. He groaned a bit. _Damn wounds, _he moved his head to where he could look at his body a bit closer, _they just won't seem to heal._ His body was covered in either big bruises or little ones. No matter where they were, they still covered his body. The thin man closed his eyes and pushed his head back against his knees. "W-why m-m-me?" He envisioned the other times that Russia raped him and his breathe hitched. _No matter what, the pain...it's just too real._ He was crying harder, but still quietly. _And it's sucks,_ he sniffled and moved his head to a pillow to smother in, _there's just too much that time cannot erase._ He started to wail, but the pillow muffled the sound to make it into a small cry. He doesn't usually break like this, crying to the point he'll almost scream into a pillow, but this time he just couldn't hold his feelings back.

Russia stood outside the door, frowning and listening to the now wailing Lithuanian that's in pain. He had been standing in front of the door ever since he closed it, and just stood there, listening as the man on the other side cried. The Lithuanian may have been quiet, but Russia could still hear him; his hearing is very helpful, but sometimes he hates being able to hear things all too well. Ivan leaned against the door as quietly as he could so he wouldn't alert the other of his presence. He closed his own eyes and imagined what Lithuania looked like as he cried; he has seen the country cry before, but always made a point to leave before he could actually witness him cry from the pain given to him by...

Russia stopped thinking for a moment, still heard the crying, and sighed. _I could wipe away your tears, da?_ He suddenly imagined him doing so, and the Lithuania in his mind didn't shiver from the action. Russia smiled. _And if you screamed, I'd fight away all of your fears._ He chuckled a bit. _I've held your hand, maybe forcefully, but I've held it through all these years._ He opened his eyes and put a hand over his heart. "You have all of me, da?" He whispered.

After a moment of staying near the door, he stood straight and walked away; he didn't want to hear Lithuania's pain anymore. He made his way to his study, glaring at the other two Baltics who rushed out of the room, and plopped into his chair. He swiveled around a bit, then started to remember when and why he started doing all of this. He thought about it and suddenly remembered when he met Lithuania; he was captivated by his resonating light, and he hates the light. He couldn't help but be bound to the life the other lived and lives now. Every time he thought about anything, Lithuania's face would appear in his mind and he'd stop to concentrate on the face. He couldn't help the fact that he dreamed of the other, either; Toris would just appear in Ivan's dreams and torment him, or at least that's what the Russian believed. Also his voice... Russia sat up in his chair and looked out at the books surrounding him. It annoyed the Russian that Lithuania's voice could chase away all the sanity in him, the sanity that he had left anyway.

He sighed which sounded like a growl. He hated all these things; the light; the haunted dreams; the voice and his sanity. He hated them to the point he started to take his annoyance out on Lithuania himself, which meant he'd torture him, cut him, insult him, or just rape him. He enjoyed raping him even if it did hurt the other insanely. Russia knew this and yet it was also giving him pain. Mental wounds. They never healed; they just got worse and were too real for the Russian. Throughout all this time that he's been doing this, time has done nothing but worsen the wounds he held. No. The wounds that they both held.

Ivan sighed again and stood up, strolling over to a window to peer out of. He's tried so hard to tell himself that Lithuania will be gone in the near future, but he's still with him. Russia rested on his arm against the window, feeling the cold glass go through his jacket, and rested his forehead on the limb. He stared out at the white world before him, and couldn't help but think one thing. _I've been alone all along._ _No one is really here, at least not for themselves._ His frown showed once more. "Da, I'm alone; I've always been alone." _I hate being alone._

He stopped leaning against the window and headed for Lithuania's room again. As he opened the door, he heard the hitched whimper and the instant stop of crying. He shivered at the silence, closed the door, and slowly made his way over to the other. Lithuania was still curled up and smothering his face into the pillow. Russia shook his head, took his jacket off, and laid in bed with the other. Lithuania was shivering again and it started to irritate the Russian, but he ignored the obvious fright and hugged the smaller country from behind. The Lithuanian was shocked by this movement; sure, Russia does this sometimes, but the embrace never held such care. Russia put his head in the nook of Lithuania's neck. _I'm sorry._ He thought. He'd never say it aloud, and he hoped he didn't need to. "I'm back." He whispered without any type of evil or creepiness tied with it.

Lithuania's body slowly stopped shaking, and he let the warm embrace continue. "I know." He said to the other man. Russia nuzzled the other's neck and held him tightly. _When I'm with Lithuania,_ he thinks to himself, _I don't feel alone anymore._

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**Note:** This is so far the longest one for a simple song story. I don't usually write LithuaniaXRussia, but as soon as i listened to the song, this just came to me. Yes what i do is when i have a song request i listen to the song over and over again until i finished the story entirely so that i keep my mind process working. I have to say, Russia isn't like himself, but...I'm just not use to doing any type of love story with Russia. I may like reading them, but i'm not use to writing them.

I hope this is all right. Like i said: I've never done a Lithuania and Russia paired story before, as you can all see, but i did it!

Thanks for reading! R&R.

**Disclaimer:** I forgot to put it in the last one, so the will count for both of them since i'm too lazy to go back and add it to Imaginary. I do not own Hetalia or the songs. Though i love both things i sadly don't own them :(


	5. Taking Over Me: Spamano

**Note:** I don't own Hetalia or the album Fallen.

* * *

"Hello Roma~!" Spain held his cell phone close to his ear as he drove. He knew that it was illegal, but he just had to call his dear little Italian. Today was a very important day for his little tomato, so he'd do anything crazy just for him; even call him as he's driving.

"What the hell do you want idiot?" Hearing the stubborn man on the other side made Spain chuckle; he knew just as well as Romano that the Italian hated being disturbed during the night, but he just couldn't wait; it was almost time. The eastern country exhaled, letting a tired sigh escape through his lips. Yawning, he spoke to his idiot again. "This better be damn good, otherwise I'm hanging up on you."

Spain chuckled again. "It's good, but I can't tell you yet." Romano's eyebrow twitched as his annoyance rose. He questioned the bastard about why he couldn't share what he wanted to say. "It's not time yet, Roma~. When it's time, then I'll say it."

Romano rubbed his temples. "And just when is it that you'll tell me this...thing that is so fucking important that you have to wake me up in the middle of the fucking morning?"

The Spanish country smiled warmly into the receiver as he looked at the clock. It turned minute just seconds ago, and he chuckled. "Now," the Italian waited for his Spaniard to say what he wanted, "Happy Anniversary Romano."

The young country blinked, looking at his calendar up on the wall. There was a date on it, circled in red, wearing big letters. "Anniversary of when we became lovers." Romano blushed at the silly sentence that he wrote and stuttered. "Idiot." The other laughed. "Why do you always remember the most stupidest days?"

"It's not stupid." Spain's eyes flickered over to stare at his arm the phone was resting on. "It's the day we finally made love for the first time, sharing our similar feelings with one another." Romano blushed even more, calling him a "bastard", though smiling as he listened. The Spaniard's eyes went back up to look out of the windshield. He sighed as he saw the snowflakes falling at a fast rate. "I won't be able to make it in time." Romano was a little confused as his lover said this. "I'm on my way over to Italy, your place, and I'm facing a storm right now."

"Wait," the Italian's eyes went wide as he shot out of his bed, looking out his window, "are you a crazy ass bastard? Talking on the phone while driving through a massive snow storm? You're fucking nuts." Spain just shook his head as he turned onto another road heading toward his destination. "Idiot! It's a blizzard out there! Stop talking to me, shut off you damn phone and drive safely!"

"I'll be fine, Roma. I've done this before." His little Italian shouted into the phone, causing Spain's ear to ring. Romano scolded him, questioning him if he's talked on the phone with him while driving before. The Spanish country giggled nervously. "Uh...no?"

"Antonio Fernandez Carriedo!" Spain flinched as his other name was said. "You shut your phone off now, damn it!" Romano paused as he tried to think of what else to say; a threat, a curse, a statement. His eyes started to glaze over with worry as he looked out into the storm. "I don't want you to get into a stupid car accident..."

Spain heard the soft spoken sentence, smiling again. "I'll be fine Roma..." His eyes left the road again, but only for a split second. "I'll be there soon, sí?" The Italian was hesitant as he said yes. "Te amo, Romano."

The other blushed. "Bastard." Spain chuckled. "I love you too, damn it." The Spaniard nodded, about to hang up on his love when he panicked. A car had swung out in front of him, causing him to spin his wheel; his tires weren't durable on the slicked road, making the vehicle slide right into the car head on. The impact made Antonio hit his head against his steering wheel, very hard, making him feel dizzy, moan, then black out. Romano had heard the screeching brakes on the car. His heart raced as he worried about the possible out come. "Spain?" He heard some sounds coming from the other end, but no response. "Spain this isn't funny..." Still no answer. His breathe hitched. "Spain? Come on, answer me, damn it! ...Fuck...Antonio!"

In a certain hospital, Spain was held in care as he still slept. Romano was there beside his lover, waiting for the moment those green eyes would open again. There anniversary had ended two days ago, and he hated the day even more. The Italian also couldn't help but blame himself for this outcome. _If he hadn't come out here for me, he wouldn't be hurt or in a stupid coma. Fucking idiot._ Some tears fell from his eyes as he sniffed. "Bastard, wake up."

As if by that small order, Spain's eyes slowly opened up. He was regaining consciousness and Romano had noticed instantly. "Antonio!" The Spaniard's eyes slowly came over and landed on Romano. The Italian smiled smugly as he contained his remaining tears. "It's about time you woke up damn it."

Spain chuckled, but he didn't know why he was in a place with this person. He looked around again, noticing that the room was a hospital room. "Why am I in a hospital?" He wondered aloud.

"Because you got into a fucking accident during one of the most scariest snow storms idiot." He looked at Romano again with a question look. The Italian sighed. "You were talking on the phone and got into a car accident by crashing into another."

"Oh...who was I talking to?" The Spanish country tried to remember, but he couldn't.

"Me, you idiot." Shock had showed in the green eyes as Spain heard this. He didn't remember talking with his visitor...he couldn't even remember who Romano was.

"Why would I be talking with someone I don't even know?" He tried his hardest to remember this Italian sitting beside him, but he couldn't. _Who is this guy?_

Romano blinked as he crossed his arms with a scowl appearing on his face. "Don't fuck with me Antonio. I've been worried long enough about you, bastard, so don't start something stupid that'll make me pissed."

Spain's eyes held apology as he looked at his guest. "I'm sorry, but...I truly don't remember you...at all."

"Yeah, right." Romano scoffed as he stood. "Stop being a jerk, damn it, or else I'll leave."

"I'm serious," Spain's voice and face held his seriousness as he spoke to Romano, "I have no clue who the hell you are, or why the heck you're here." Romano just stared at him, bewildered. Spain was never that much of a joker, and he never, ever did a joke that could hurt Romano. _No,_ he thought as he took a step away from the Spaniard, _he...he couldn't have forgotten...could he?_

Days had passed since that moment with Spain telling Romano he couldn't remember him. The Italian, to say the least, was majorly distraught; he's never lived a day without his crazy idiot calling him, and his new life, with an Antonio that had forgotten him, was turning disastrous. He couldn't accept the fact that his lover's memories, every single one of them, was wiped clean away from the bastard's mind, leaving the owner no recollection of the love he felt towards a certain Italian.

The day had started like all the others that passed; Romano had gone to visit his idiotic Spaniard, unable to go past the. He was too afraid to speak with Spain, but still came to the hospital. He peered through the door where Antonio was, chatting with France and Prussia. _He claims that he doesn't remember me, but...I still remember him._ After some minutes of staring at Spain, he left to go home.

The young man laid in his bed, tossing, turning as he tried not to think of the guy who's brought so much shit down onto his thinking pan. He closes his eyes, forcing himself to try and dream, ...but all his dreams contain a certain country that he's loved most of his life. He opened them again, sighing as he got up, trying to find what can occupy his time.

A few hours later, he gets a call from France, telling him that Spain will be going home in a few minutes. Romano scowled. "Why the hell are you telling me? I bet the bastard doesn't even want to see me."

"That's not true!" France retorted. He turned to stare at his Spanish friend. "'Tonio, would you like Romano to see you off home?"

Spain looked confused as he sat straighter. "Who's Romano?" The two other countries blinked as this question was asked.

They tried to speak with Spain, telling him all the stories that they knew about them, and Romano hung up on them. _I don't need to hear that shit again. I've lived through it, so that means I don't need to hear it from two perverts, twisting the story._ He sighed as he sat in his couch. He still could barely believe the turn in his life; a simple accident causing so much pain to one person. He stared at the ceiling and asked: _Has he really forgotten all we know? All we had?_ Blinking, he shook his head. "Of course he has...bastard." Some tears formed and started to fall as he whined. "Spain..."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Stepping out of the hospital, Spain inhaled some fresh air. "Ah..." He looked around the parking lot, searching for something, someone, but found no one catching his eye. He frowned. _I wonder why I feel so sad._ He scoped the area again, looking behind him. His friends were still in the hospital, flirting with some nurses. He chuckled and turned around. "I think I'll just head this way." He stared walking towards a very familiar neighborhood where the Italian he once remembered lives.

He strolled up a street, gazing at all the different houses. _I feel as if I know this place inside out, but why don't I remember anything?_ His head moved around from side to side, taking in the view. Spain was moving automatically, so he didn't realize that he came upon a porch step until he stopped. Looking at the door, blinked. _Do I live here? Or does someone I know live here?_ He checked the window, seeing if anyone was home. _I guess I'll just knock._ Doing as he thought he, knocked on the door.

Just as he was done knocking, the door whipped open. "Who the hell would bother me at such a fucking horrible time?" Romano was too upset to notice it was Spain, but figured who it was by just hearing him speak.

"I'm sorry," the Italian's head jerked up to stare at the Spaniard, "I thought that I...you." Romano's face fell as he saw the man he loved in front of him._ Damn it all, why now? I can't deal with him right now; I'm still trying to cope with the shit that happened. _"You live here?"

Romano looked away, crossing his arms as he leaned on the door frame. "Duh, if I didn't I wouldn't be standing right in front of you." Antonio nodded, feeling a bit stupid. Romano eyed him. "Why the hell are you here? I thought you didn't remember anything about me."

"I...I thought so, too, but" Romano's heart started to flutter faster, hoping he'd say that he finally remembers, "it looks like I know where you live." Spain chuckled a little as the Italian's heart sank. "I don't know how, but I do."

"Yeah, well, why don't you just forget it, and live the fucking retarded life that you've been blessed with." He blinked as he tried to think of where that came from.

Antonio frowned. "But..."

"You said you don't remember me." Romano stared at his feet, his body starting to shake. "So please just forget everything about me." Spain was confused; he didn't know what Romano was talking about. "You've caused me enough pain by just saying that you don't remember a damn thing, so please...just go back to Spain so I can stop feeling more hurt because of you."

Spain just stood there, staring at the other. "I..."

"Antonio!" France and Gilbert came up the small sidewalk leading to Romano's house, catching Spain's attention. With the little distraction, Romano slammed the door shut and locked himself in, keeping them out. France stood next to his friend and looked at the house. "I thought you didn't know Romano...well forgot him."

"I thought so, too, but it looks like I haven't forgotten him fully." The Spaniard stared at the door, as if wanting it to open back up. "I don't know why I remember his house and not him; it doesn't make any sense." Gazing into the window for a last time, he turned and left with his friends.

Romano stood behind the curtains, watching them leave. "Why the hell was he here?" He clutched his heart. "It's breaking even more...it hurts too much." He walked out of the living room to his bathroom, running the water to splash his face. As the clear liquid dripped from his face he, looked up into the mirror and gasped. "What the fuck?" He saw Antonio's face instead of his. This shocked him; he didn't know why he saw the bastard's face, but he did. It was there; smiling at him like the old Spain did before the accident. Once he realized that, he couldn't stop staring.

The Italian kept looking deeper into the mirror as memories started to pour out onto the reflector, playing all the scenes where they had kissed, touched, held each other, made love. Romano was mesmerized by this event, but snapped out of his fantasy. "No!" He shouted, splashing more water onto his face. "I'm not letting that bastard take over me! Not my mind, not even my body!" Leaning on the sink, he stared into the water. _It's too late to say that though. He's taken over my life since the day he ruled over me as my boss._

He sighed, slowly standing straight as he peered into the mirror; it was his own reflection now. He chuckled hoarsely and walked out to his room. _There is a way to make the pain go away, right?_ He took out a small shirt, long enough to make a loop in a rope. _Yeah, there is. There's a way for me to get away from all of this...I can finally run away without any regrets._ He tied his shirt into a certain formation, readying himself for what he was about to do. _I won't need to remember him anymore..._

The next day, the Italian papers held a story. Most of their stories were never really anything special or of interest, but there was one that got many people, including the Mafia. "Young Man Commits Suicide for Reasons Unknown"

Italy had learned of this only to cry severely. He went over to Germany than to Spain. The two countries followed the small country back to his home. Spain didn't remember anything about his Ita-chan having a twin brother, but once he saw who it was, he paled. He still didn't remember everything about Romano, but he knew the reason why he took this act of suicide. _He said I was giving him pain...so much pain..._ He looked around the house that he remembered with no problem. Finding a note near a certain area he picked it up and read it.

_"Hola Tomato Bastard,"_ something clicked in Spain's mind as he read that nickname, _"if you're reading this then that means I've done the deed of committing suicide. Now I must let you know, I'm __just like you Spain. I'm South Italy, Romano Lovino Vargas. Committing suicide is nothing to us; we just come back after a certain amount of time, but if we were able to, we'd be dead forever and be reborn as new countries that don't remember anything or anyone; they'd have to learn everything about everyone all over again. I know you probably know that, but I'm just saying that just in case you've forgotten that like the idiot you are."_ Spain chuckled at that statement, nodding. _"Also, if you've seen my body, then that means you know why and who I've committed this crime for. I've done it for myself, of course, not you damn it, only so that I could be away from this shitty pain. Now, note this you bastard: I believe in you. I've always believed in you; so much that I'd give up everything I had for you. Don't think that this is a sappy letter because it sure as hell isn't! I made this letter up just to tell you the things that you've forgotten._

_ "I loved you. I still do, damn it, even after dying so many times. With you forgetting me like this, I feel like my life's ended. I have to be with you to live, to breathe...you've basically taken over me...again. You were first my boss, taking over my country and raising me, and now you've taken my heart. Shitty sappiness. I'm not good at these fucking type of letters. I guess I'll just end it here now, bastard. If you've read this entire thing, then you're even more of an idiotic bastard than I thought...but if I know you, you'd read, watch or do anything with any hint of me in or around it. What am I saying? You're not like that anymore... Well bastard, my last words that I'll say in this stupid letter are these: I love you, you S.O.B. And don't think about anything else that says I don't."_

The letter ended and Spain smiled. "Brother Spain..." The Spaniard turned to Italy, who seemed to be a bit happier. "He's awake."

He nodded, putting down the letter. "Thank you Italy." He left the room and went into another where Romano laid. The Italian was indeed awake, but he didn't want to look at anyone. "Romano..." the said country turned his head, shocked to see who was visiting him. Spain smiled. "Roma~."

Romano blushed as he smiled. "Idiot...do you remember me now?"

"No." His face fell, but soon heated as Spain came closer to him. "I remembered you ever sense I went back home. I looked around my house and felt as if something was missing, and I always thought of you being that 'something'. I soon realized why, and looked at some of our pictures, gaining most of my memories back." He leaned closer to Romano's face, making their lips barely touch. "I wanted to come back instantly, but I was too late. I'm sorry Roma. I wasn't here for you when you needed me the most."

"Idiot." Spain chuckled. "You need to stop taking over me."

"That's going to be hard to do when I love you so much." Romano blushed again, and was about to say something back, but Spain didn't let him since he finally connected there longed for kiss.

* * *

**Note:** It's been a while since i've done a song story, but i've gotten back into the spirits of writing these sad, yet happy stories. This little short was only made up on the spot as i listened to the song, so it might not be good. I seem to like doing Spamano stories, but this one was a bit sad. It has a happy ending, but still...

I hope you all liked it. Thanks for reading, loves! R&R.


	6. My Immortal 2: Sufin

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia or the songs.

* * *

A tall man leaned back against the wall, slouching as he looked up at the stars. He stared up at the endless sky, hoping that he wouldn't have to do what he was about to do. A sigh slipped through his lips that were mostly sealed. His face, usually emotionless, holds a blank gaze, but truly, he's frightened with worry.

As the Swedish man looked up to the sky, a star flew across the blackened space lit with the speckles of light. _A shootin' st'r. _He paused, closing his eyes, making the continuous wish he's been making for days on end. Opening his blue irises to the dark night again, he gasped, which wasn't heard by the man in front of him.

"Su-san?" The smaller man gazed up into the taller's face. "What are you doing on my front porch step?" Sweden stared at Finn, his usual face scaring the other slightly. Finland panicked as he waved his hands in front of him. "I-it's not like I don't want you to be here! It's just that you never really appear out of nowhere, especially since it's night time! I just wanted to know why you're suddenly here scaring me- Ah! You're not scaring me! Oh... I should just shut up..." He calmed down some as his shaking body awaited a reaction from his friend.

Sweden stared at Finland, sighing some as the other looked helplessly spooked. Finn chanced a look at the other, jumping as he saw a fierce look which truly meant to be a kind face. He started to tremble a bit more. "Finn..." the other flinched as he was called. "You don' ha'e to sta' by my si'e." As fast as the man had started shivering, he stopped, glancing up at the other with confusion. He understood him perfectly, being with the man for centuries, but was just...shocked.

"Su-san," Finn looked at his feet then back up at Sweden. "What do you mean by that? 'I don't have to stay by you're side'?" Sweden hesitated before nodding, gazing at something else. He couldn't take another chance of looking at his 'wife'. "Why...? All of a sudden?"

Sweden just stared at the grass next to his feet. He knew a lot of things, though he was silent at most times. He was always aware of Finland's trembles, jumps, flinches every time he did some sort of movement towards the man. It hurt him some that the one he loved was so frightened of him, and would get scared by a simple twitch. You'd think that he'd do that around Russia than Sweden, but with the way his face was just so emotionless, Sweden couldn't help it. "I kn'w." He mumbled.

Finland caught what he said, though the Swed didn't want him to. "You know...what?" For some reason, Finn's heart was starting to ache. He feared that something was wrong. Something wasn't quite right about Su-san, and he knew that whatever was going to happen was going to break him a bit. "Su-san?"

"I kn'w th't you don' lik' ha'in' me aro'nd." Finland blinked, shaking his head, but Sweden didn't believe him. "You're sc'red 'f me." Finn's head stopped moving as he guiltily looked away. "I kn'w, 'nd th't's why I'm g'in' to le've."

The Finnish man's eyes widened as his head snapped back to look at the other. "Su-san!" Sweden ignored him as he started walking away. Finland stood there, paralyzed from what was going on. Some tears started to prick at his eyes as he processed what was happening. _He's leaving me?! But why? Did I do something wrong?_ Slowly turning to see the man who he has know for a long time, he realized something. _He calls me his wife, but... I merely thought of it as a joke. Could he truly...care for me like he says? A wife? _He blushed, but shook his head. _I'm a man, too! But..._ More tears fell down his cheek, sliding down his pale skin, marking it with a red tint. Moving his feet, he started to run after the man. _Su-san!_

As Sweden slowly made his way away from his used to be 'wife', he remembered all of the joys that Finland brought to him. The nights of them running away from Denmark were the first he saw come to mind. If possible, he would've smirked. Other times also rushed through his mind as he walked. Times of when Finland would cry, him wiping his tears away, gaining a slight flinch from the small man as he pushed his hand away. Nights when Finn would wake up from a nightmare, shaking in fear as he recovered from his screams. Sweden was there by his side, always there to try and calm him the best he could; though he instantly noticed that his presence just made it worse.

The Swedish country sighed. He didn't know why he was drawn to the Finnish man, but he just knew... The fact that Finn was by his side made him happy. The country was a certain...light that resonated with something that he didn't have. Endless emotion.

With the few weeks that turned to years of them not being in the same house, Sweden soon came to realize that Finland had taken up every inch of his thoughts, his face appearing to him when he wasn't thinking of anything specific. This was before they had truly spent time with each other, escaping the grasp Denmark, fully rebelling. He found that he was truly in love with Finland, so he started calling the country his 'wife'.

Sweden sighed. Memories he thought were lovely just made him sad, adding more to the reason of why he was leaving. It was all for Finland. He wanted him to be happy, not afraid. Though he knew his reasons he couldn't help, but feel he was doing the wrong thing.

Shaking his head, he mumbled to himself. _You fin'lly did wh't you w'nted to do. He's g'ne now, 'nd he w'n't c'me b'ck. _Slowing his pace, he figured out just how true that was. That wasn't it though. He was now alone. He sighed. _The meetings between us Nordics... I hope they don't become awkward._ He came to a full stop.

_...Finn..._

"Su-san!" A scream came from behind the tall man. Sweden blinked, turning around to Finland hugging him. Finn's arms embraced the Swed's torso as he cried against him. "Don't leave! Please Su-san." He nuzzled Sweden, drying his present tears on the man's coat. Sweden just stood there in slight shock. His hands came up to Finn's shoulders, pushing him off a little bit to see the teary eyed face his 'wife' held. Finland gazed up into the blue eyes he's known for so long, still crying. "Please, Su-san, I don't want you to leave."

The tall man scanned the other's face, seeing not one bit of a put on lie, but he knew that Finland never lied. Wiping away the continuous tears that rolled down the Finnish man's cheeks, he mustered up all of his muscle strength in his own cheeks and lips to smile. Finn's eyes landed on the small motion of a smile, shocked to see something so...gentle on the man's face. "If th't's wh't yo' w'nt."

Finland smiled as he held Sweden even closer, leaning his head against the man's chest. "That's what I want." Glancing back up at the Swed, he wrapped his arms around the country's neck, going on his tiptoes as he pulls himself in for a kiss. Sweden's eyes widened a bit, but he soon closed his eyes as he kissed his 'wife' back. Once they let go of each other, Finland grabbed his love's hand, dragging him back home. "Let's go home."

Sweden stood there at first, but then let Finn drag him as he nodded, showing that small smile. One thought went through both of there minds as they went back to Finn's house, hand in hand. _"You still have all of me."_

* * *

**Note: **This is my first SuFin and since there's angst it probably isn't that good. It was a bit hard for me to decide what to do since i'm not used to doing this pairing, but I'm glad i was requested to do this by Otaku Overlord. The song is My Immortal again, but at least it isn't back to back with the other one. I hope this suits what you had in mind, and if it wasn't I'm sorry ;^; Like i said, I'm not used to doing SuFin and it was an Angsty one too.

Also, I sort of got lazy when it came to Su-san's speech and thoguhts. I know that most had typed his speech like that, so i did it too, since we all know that it sounds almost like a mumble and it's hard to catch. I hope no one hates me *holds up shield from anything that can harm her* I tried my best, honest! Also, sorry that it took two months to finally do this request ;^; I've been busy and depressed recently...

**Ciao:** I hope you all liked it! Thanks for reading, loves! I mean it! R&R.


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